In a Hand Basket
by Superfreek
Summary: Mid season 4 slight au. Sam confronts Dean about hell. adult content. wincest


In a Hand Basket

Dean never even glanced over at his brother, he knew exactly what he would see if he did. Sam sitting in the passenger seat, tucked into the corner looking at him expectantly with a mix of concern and exasperation, pensive lines on his brow, puppy dog eyes out in full force. Definitely what Dean did not need right now.

"What the hell dude? Can't you just let it go? I feel like a bleeding scab that you won't stop picking at." It was true in more ways than Dean wanted to admit. He knew that his brother was concerned, hell he would be too if the situation were reversed, but it wasn't God damn it and he didn't want to talk about it. Not now. Not ever. If he didn't talk about it he could ignore it. If he could ignore it, then it never happened. Win win as far as Dean was concerned.

His persistent brother obviously didn't share his point of view. "Dean, you can't just keep ignoring this. It happened and pretending that it didn't isn't gonna make it go away."

Dean threw a startled glance over at Sam. Was he actually reading his mind? Fucker knew him too well for his own good. Not Sam's good, Dean's. Knowing how each other thinks had served them well in their line of work, probably even saved their lives on more than one occasion, but at times like this Dean hated it. It was all fine and well when it was used on a hunt or even used against Sam to get him to open up and spill whatever his freakishly overactive brain was mulling over at the time. Dean had come to think of these moments of brooding as "Sam's issue de jour". That was part of keeping Sam safe, part of doing his job. But Sam using that shit on him? Shouldn't work like that. That was big brother territory. Dean thought that somewhere down the line Sam had forgotten his place.

Dean inwardly smirked. He knew damn well that Sam had never learned his place to begin with. Always questioning, always wanting to know, pushing a little further. Then pushing some more followed by more questioning, some well calculated heart wrenching hurt expressions and then more pushing. Pushing pushing pushing! Not in your face pushing, no not Sam. More like an off handed comment or insinuation that seems like nothing in particular at the time until it slowly escalates and you find yourself caught up in a full on interrogation before you even know what the question was. Subterfuge damn it. That is what it was. Disorient, confuse, mislead and attack. No matter how many times Sam did this it always shocked Dean that he hadn't seen it coming until it was too late. He had obviously taught his little brother too well.

"Well thank you Dr. Phil." Dean barked out. Sam's words had hit way too close to the mark but he didn't want to think about that. No, he thought, that would be the subject of another surprise verbal ambush for another time. "No, actually you know what, you are more like Barbara Walters, you just don't stop. You push and push and push until everyone spills their guts. Hell I bet you could even make that pushy bitch cry! But it's not gonna work on me so just stop. I've been immune to your puppy dog eyes since I was twelve." Dean gripped the steering wheel tight and forced himself to concentrate on the road. He wasn't going to look at Sam. They both knew that Dean was full of shit. Dean could never resist Sam in full out puppy mode and they both knew it. So he just wouldn't look. He would keep his hands on the wheel and his eyes on the road and not look at his pleading brother and everything would be just fine and fuck! He looked.

"You're so full of shit Dean."

What the fuck! How the fuck did he do that? Fine. Sam wanted to dance? Bring it on. Young Winchester had learned much, but he wasn't a Jedi yet!

"Is that so?" God that was fucking lame. Dean couldn't dance worth shit. At least not with his brother.

"Yeah Dean it is. You were in Hell Dean. Hell! Don't tell me that you're fine! I hear you when you sleep and I see the haunted look in your eyes when you think I'm not looking. You aren't fine Dean! And if you were then there really would be something wrong with you!"

Dean's knuckles were white where they gripped the wheel under sweaty palms. He took a deep breath to calm his nerves. This was too close to....just too close. His heart raced and he felt like twisting the wheel and veering into oncoming traffic, punching Sam in the face, slamming on the brakes and flying through the windshield, anything.... anything to get away from this. "You don't know shit Sam. You have no idea........" Dean stopped himself. "Just shut the fuck up and let me drive."

After a brief pause that felt like an eternity Sam relaxed into his seat. "I'm sorry Dean... you're right. I have no idea." Dean glanced over at him skeptically but Sam said nothing, just stared out the window resigned look on his face. Good. Ha! Serves him right! Dean wanted to believe that this was over, but something just didn't feel right, something.....he just couldn't quite put his finger on it but...... He was warily regarding Sam when he finally turned away from the window and spoke.

"So tell me."

GOD DAMNIT!

Sam had done it again and Dean had played right into it! Fuck! Fucking Sam and his fucking evil premeditative mind! Sam had manipulated the entire last two hours to come down to this. And Dean had not only fallen for it, but had run into it with guns ablazing! Again. Fucking bastard! Dean turned to Sam and opened his mouth as if to speak, but shut it almost instantly. Sam just sat there and if Dean didn't know him so well he would have missed the amused gleam in his eyes. Sam had won; Sam knew it and Dean did too. Sam had left him with no hiding places and no exits. Dean set his shoulders and did what he did best. "There's a town two miles up ahead. We should stop and take inventory. Looks like a storm is coming in."

Wasn't that an understatement.

Sam shook his head and returned his gaze to the window. "Yeah Dean whatever."

........................................

The drive to find a motel was silent. Not comfortable silent. It was hard to get comfortable while sharing the car with the big white elephant that both men chose to ignore. Dean used the time to regroup and get his thoughts together and his emotions under control. That was Sam's secret weapon and Dean knew it. Didn't mean he could do anything about it, but he knew just the same. Sam would get Dean so riled up that his emotions would jump out of his mouth before he could pull on the reigns. Dean wished that he could play the same game on Sam but it would never work. The problem was that everything Sam said **was** tied to his damn emotions. Stupid Sam. Stupid in tune with my feelings emo Sam. Life would be much easier if Sam could just learn to hide his feelings and deal with life without the need to "get close" and "share" or "talk it out." Just ignore what bothers you like men are supposed to. Whatever, it was a moot point.

Dean ignored the looks from Sam as they passed several hotels. Nothing wrong with them, Dean just needed a bit more time to focus on a game plan. He knew that Sam wasn't finished yet. Not by a long shot and he needed to prepare himself for the inevitable "talk" if he was going to survive until tomorrow. The town wasn't that large and Dean finally pulled into a motel parking lot when he noticed the buildings starting to thin out. Stopping had been his idea and driving all the way through town and then having to back track to find a motel would certainly raise Sam's suspicions. Who the fuck was he kidding. Sam knew damned well that Dean was stalling. Just more ammo for the pending battle. Great, just fucking great. Stupid Sam.

The first drops of rain started to fall just as the impala came to a stop in front of the registration office. "I got it." Sam stated as he hopped out of the car. Dean didn't mind. Gave him a bit more time to think. Problem was that thinking wasn't really Dean's specialty, he was better at doing. In the thick of things was when Dean really shined. He had the instincts of a true soldier, instant action: instant reaction, not much thinking involved. Long hours waiting and re-evaluating and calculating and analyzing were better left to people like.......well like Sam. God Dean was so fucked.

A tap on the window startled Dean out of his pessimistic thoughts. "Room 23." Sam said as he held up a key with a large keychain that bore the same number. Sam patted the top of the impala and walked away in the direction of their room. There was half a second where Dean actually considered driving away and never looking back. Only half a second. He could never turn his back on Sam regardless of how much he really wasn't looking forward to this. And he was looking forward to this about as much as he was the possibility of his dick falling off.

After taking just a little too much time to collect their meager belongings Dean reluctantly stepped into the room.

And stopped instantly.

Dean's eyes darted accusingly between Sam and the bed. The bed. As in singular. There was a time when that would not phase him at all, when two beds in the room would have drawn the same reaction. That was a long time ago. Ok, so it was only technically about five months but it seemed like years. Like fourty years. Like fourty years in hell....Oh hey, hold on a minute....

"What?" Sam asked harshly. He looked to the bed and then back to Dean. "It was all they had." Dean pretended that he didn't see the flash of hurt in Sam's eyes.

"Yeah whatever." Dean answered as he threw the bags onto the table in the corner. He then removed his jacket and grabbed his toiletries out of his bag. "I need a shower." He made his way to the small bathroom without looking back at his brother.

"You had a shower this morning Dean." Sam said in that all too familiar insinuating tone.

Dean stopped in his tracks, instinctively his shoulders set and his feet were planted in a fighting stance. "Yeah well I feel dirty." He noticed his mistake about half a second too late.

"And what exactly is that supposed to mean?" Sam sounded quite pissed off and Dean cursed himself for being so stupid. Leave it up to Sam to never miss anything. Not one God damned tiny little thing.

"It doesn't mean anything Sam."

"Bullshit."

Oh yeah, this day just kept getting better and better.

Dean couldn't deal with this right now and he headed for the bathroom but just as he opened the door it was slammed closed by a large arm that suddenly appeared over his shoulder. Dean never moved, he simply stood there with his hand still clenched around a knob that was no longer there. He could hear the strained breathing from over his shoulder. " What. The fuck. Did. You. Mean." The words were quiet and harsh in his ears and they resounded through his head like the sound of guns being cocked to a man who faced a firing squad.

"Answer me!" Dean remained silent. The minutes stretched on like hours and still Dean couldn't bring himself to move or speak. He felt the heat of Sam against him, felt the tension in his posture and his breath hot on his neck. It brought back memories of similar sensations that carried an entirely different meaning. Dean tried to push the thoughts away; he didn't need to be thinking of that, especially not now.

Suddenly Dean was being whirled around by huge hands and thrown back into the bathroom door. The room echoed with the sound of the cheap door ripping away from its hinges, it stayed in place, but they could pretty much kiss their damage deposit goodbye. Not that either man gave a shit. Dean was still somewhat caught off guard by his brother when he made the mistake of looking in his eyes. He has never seen Sam so angry.

"Fine don't answer me, you don't have to." Sam snarled. "The thought of lying next to me makes you dirty is that it? Is that why you can't bring yourself to touch me Dean? Don't wanna get your hands dirty?"

Dean couldn't believe the depths of his brother's anger. But there was more to it than just anger, pain and loss swam in Sam's eyes as clearly as if the words were tattooed on his face. How the hell had things fallen apart so fucking fast?

"I've tried to get through to you Dean. I've tried to understand. "Sam spoke low but his words were laced with venom. He was so close to Dean that he felt every breath on his face as Sam spoke."God help me I have tried but you just won't fucking let me in." Sam's features shook as he tried to maintain control."This isn't only about you Dean. If this is how you feel then you should have told me. I think I have the right to know that I make you dirty." Sam spoke the last word like it was the name of the devil himself.

Dean couldn't believe what he was hearing. How could Sam think that? Sam was everything that was good and pure in Dean's life. He attributed everything that was good in himself to what Sam had taught him and he thought that he could make Dean dirty? "No." Dean managed to squeak out. "You don't understand." It was weak and Dean knew it.

"No. You don't understand Dean. You don't know what it was like. To watch you die. To have to go on without you. To know where you were not being able to help you. You don't know what it was like to finally get you back and realize that you no longer wanted me. It's like you are still dead, and I am still alone."

Dean felt his heart rip in half. Knowing that he had caused Sam so much pain when all he was trying to do was protect him. Protecting Sam was all that ever mattered to Dean and he had failed. He never should have been brought back. Sam was better off without him. But the damage was done and Dean didn't know what to say, what he could ever say to make things ok, to make Sam understand. He had to say something. He had to try."I never said I didn't want you." was what finally came out.

"Bullshit! You say it every time I try to touch you, every time I try to talk to you. To get you to talk to me!" Sam grabbed Dean roughly by the collar of his shirt and shoved him roughly into the door again. "Don't lie to me any more Dean! Have the balls to tell me the truth!"

The truth.

How could Dean bring himself to admit things to Sam that he couldn't admit to himself? How do you tell the person you love, the person who has looked up to you his entire life that you are not the person that he thinks you are? How do you explain the things that you have done, the pain and anguish that you have caused, and the pleasure that you took in inflicting it? Dean knew that Sam thought that he was different because he had left a part of himself in hell. If only that were true. The truth was that Dean had _**found**_a part of himself in hell. A part of himself that he never wanted to know about but couldn't seem to forget. The truth was that Dean was a monster. How do you tell someone that?

"You don't know the things that I've done Sam." Dean managed to choke out." The things I'm capable of. I.....I don't want you to be a part of that." Dean wanted to look away, but Sam's eyes drew him in like a moth to a flame. I was like staring at the sun and not being able to look away. If he thought that he could he would have ripped out his own eyes to save himself from seeing the look on Sam's face.

"You should have given me a choice Dean, you owe me that much." With that Sam released Dean and stepped away with one last angry shove.

"I couldn't Sam I...I couldn't take the chance." Sam whirled around, his anger once again rising up.

"The chance that what? I would leave again. Jesus Dean! I thought we were over this! Did you really think that after everything, everything that we have been through, everything that you have done for me, with me, that I could just walk away?"

"No." Dean said flatly. "I was afraid that you wouldn't." Shit. Dean just couldn't seem to get control of his mouth today.

"What?"

Dean let out a resigned sigh. He had never meant to say that and now he had to explain himself. What the hell, in for a penny in for a pound right? Dean knew that this day would come and now it was time to pay the piper. He took a deep breath. "The things that I have done Sam...You can't begin to imagine the pain that I caused... the...the things that I did to them...."

"Is this about hell Dean? It was hell! It's supposed to be horrible! You can't blame yourself for-"

"I enjoyed it Sam! I ripped them apart and listened to them scream and I liked it! I** liked **to be the one to deal it out for a change! It made me feel strong and in control for once and I FUCKING ENJOYED IT!!!"

Sam stared shocked at his brother's confession. Not what he had been expecting at all but now everything made perfect sense. "And now you feel that you need to be punished is that it" It wasn't a question.

"Yes." Dean was shocked at his own answer. All this time he had told himself that he was protecting Sam from himself, protecting him from the monster that lived inside him when truly all he was doing was punishing himself. And punishing Sam in the process. He truly had failed Sam in every way possible.

"You want to be punished Dean?" Sam spat out. "Fine." Sam darted across the room and hit Dean square in the jaw with his right fist. "Is this what you want Dean!" he shouted as he reached back and hit him again with a strong left hook. "Is this what you fucking want Dean!" Sam stood in front of Dean shaking with a mix of anger and pain fuelled by adrenaline. He waited for Dean to answer, to hit back, to yell, to shove past him and walk away, something, anything. What Dean actually did was the last thing that Sam was expecting. He watched in surprise and horror as Dean slowly slid down the tattered door and fell to his knees in front of him.

--------------------------------------------------------

Dean thought that he could actually die from his own misery. Maybe he was still dead. Maybe he was still in hell and this was another cruel joke. He wanted to yell, to hurt something, hurt himself, he wanted to cry, but he couldn't move. Despair seemed to wrap itself around Dean like a tangible thing restraining him. He knew that Sam had spoken but he couldn't make out the words. Dean was lost in his own thoughts which were an endless litany of pain and failure.

Dean felt a large hand grip his neck roughly and he was pulled to his feet. "I said get the fuck up!" Ok, so that's what Sam had said. Dean stared at his feet, unable to look his brother in the eye. He could tell that Sam was still angry but he wasn't ready to see anything else that Sam's eyes might give away. Anger was fine; it was what he deserved after all. "Take off your jacket." Dean heard Sam but it was as if his brother's voice was far away, like he was talking to him through a bad phone connection, like none of this was real.

It became very apparent to Dean that this was in fact real when his brother pounced on him and roughly man handled him out of his jacket before tossing it carelessly across the room. He then found himself whirled around and slammed face first into the wall. Dean had no idea what Sam intended to do, didn't care much really. Whatever was going to happen was far less than what he deserved.

Large hands grasped his wrists and planted his hands firmly on the wall just above his head. Dean tried to convince himself that the tremble in those hands was just a figment of his imagination. Dean felt the heat from Sam as he pressed his firm chest into his back and leaned over his shoulder so that his lips were next to his ear. A tingle of desire escaped and Dean felt instantly guilty. Well more guilty if that was possible. He was reminded once again of everything that he had denied himself, denied his brother, and for what? It hadn't changed anything. Sam was still hurting and Dean was still a failure. Their father had been right. Nothing he ever did was good enough.

Dean felt Sam's breath on his neck, a sorry reminder of everything that he had lost. "You may have made them scream Dean, but you don't get to. Don't make a sound."

Sam stepped back and Dean instantly missed the contact. Even in his pathetic state he didn't miss the irony that was in there somewhere.

Dean leaned his forehead against the wall and resigned himself to his fate. He felt Sam's hands at his neck and felt a fleeting moment of hope before his t shirt was ripped in half. Large strong hands caressed his now exposed back as they pushed aside the tattered material; then they were gone.

The sound of Sam unbuckling and removing his belt reverberated through the room like thunder. Dean locked his legs and tensed, waiting for the blow....that never came.

"I can't" he heard Sam utter softly before hearing the belt drop to the floor. Dean wasn't sure if he was relieved or disappointed. "I'm sorry Dean I ..... I just can't." The sadness in that voice was unmistakable. A moment ago Dean thought that he couldn't possibly feel worse about himself. He was wrong. My God! What he had almost allowed Sam to do, had practically begged him to do! Wasn't this the same thing that had prompted this in the first place? No, this was worse. In hell it had been nameless strangers who may or may not have deserved it, but to ask that of someone who loves you? Dean truly was a monster.

"Dean please-"

"Don't." Dean dropped his arms to his sides leaving his forehead firmly planted against the wall. "Just don't Sam." Hearing his brother so pained, knowing that he thought he had let Dean down, it was too much. But that was Sam. Gentle caring, loving Sam. Dean wondered what he had ever done to deserve someone like Sam in his life. Wondered what Sam had ever done to be cursed with him. He wished the floor would open up and suck him back down to the pit, anything would have been better than having to face his brother. The floor remained solid beneath his feet, so Dean sighed, and turned around.

And felt like he was hit by a truck.

Sam stood several feet away breathing deeply trying to control himself. Tears threatened to fall from his glistening reddened eyes and his hands were balled into tight fists. All traces of anger were gone and what was left was the personification of sorrow. The sight made Dean feel like throwing up. What the hell had he done?

"Sam...I'm sorry...I shouldn't have....." his voice broke as he watched a tear break free and slip down Sam's blotchy cheek. Dean couldn't look any longer; if he did he knew that it would kill him. He closed his eyes and turned his head away all the while trying to stave off his own tears that had suddenly welled up. He remained like that for some time trying to take long even breaths to calm himself down.

An eternity passed before Dean felt himself enveloped in his brother's huge arms. Sam's chin rested on his shoulder and he couldn't stop the tear that fell for all the gold in the world. "I couldn't Dean." Sam whispered.

Dean wasn't a monster; monster didn't even come close to how Dean felt. He thought that half the demons in hell were saints compared to what he was. Dean hated himself. He had to get away; he couldn't take Sam's kindness. He began to struggle in a feeble attempt to push his brother away but Sam held tight. "I know you think it's what you deserve Dean..." Sam whispered against his neck "I know you think it is what you need. But it isn't. What you need is forgiveness."

Forgiveness, what the fuck? He couldn't believe what he was hearing. "Forgiveness?" Dean spat out. "How can you forgive me after everything that I've done?" He truly couldn't understand it.

"I've already forgiven you Dean. You need to forgive yourself." Sam pulled away and took Dean's face in his hands as he wiped away a stray tear off his cheek with his thumb.

Dean was frozen in shock. He made no attempt to hide his surprise or the tears that now freely flowed down his face. "How can you say that?" Dean's voice trembled as he spoke, the words catching in his throat. "You don't even know the things I've-"

"And I don't care." The conviction in Sam's voice shot through Dean like a shot of cheap whiskey. Sam leaned forward and kissed Dean's forehead and then let his hands fall and walked away. He removed his own jacket and paced nervously, running his hands through his unruly mop of hair before finally sitting himself on the edge of the bed; arms resting on his long legs. He stared at his hands as he finally spoke. "I want to help you Dean, but you have to let me. You have to come to me." Sam looked up at Dean who still stood motionless across the room. The invitation in his eyes was as clear as a lighthouse beacon on a stormy shore. Dean couldn't tear his own eyes away from Sam's pleading gaze although he desperately wanted to.

Dean's heart raced and his mind ran a mile a minute, one thought blending into the next until all coherent thought was no longer possible. Love, pain, anger, guilt, desire,

self loathing, need, disgust and longing battled for the upper hand until they were all rolled into one indescribably undeniable emotion. All Dean knew was that he needed.

And Sam was offering.

Sam.

Dean wasn't even aware that he was moving until he stopped in front of the bed and looked down at Sam who stared up at him, hope shining in his eyes. Everything came full circle when Dean found himself once again dropping to his knees in front of his brother.

*********************************

"Sammy" Dean whispered as he rocked gently back and forth on his knees. He was unaware that he had spoken aloud. It was the only word that Dean's mind could process and it played over and over again in an endless loop. Sammy Sammy Sammy Sammy.... The one simple word summed up everything that Dean was feeling, everything that he wanted and everything that he was afraid of. "Sammy" he whispered again as he laid his head on his brothers thigh.

Dean felt Sam's hand come to rest on his head and his heart swelled with equal amounts of love and pain. That one simple gesture conveyed more meaning than a thousand words could convey; forgiveness acceptance love trust faith. Dean didn't deserve any of those, didn't want them but he couldn't deny the relentless aching in his heart that needed them. Sammy.

Sam remained silent while gently stroking his brother's hair as the war in Dean's mind raged. He wasn't aware of actual thoughts as he fought with himself. Opposite yet equally strong emotions hit him with terrifying force.

Slowly Dean began to regain control over himself. He was completely at a loss for how long he lay there in his brother's lap. Sam's patience amazed him and warmed his heart in ways that he hadn't felt in a long time; thought he would never feel again. He was still conflicted. On one had he didn't feel that he deserved the absolution that Sam so easily gave him, but on the other hand there was Sam. And Sam always won out over anything else, even his soul. Dean would never be free of his guilt, never be able to forgive himself for the horrors inflicted by his own hand but he could free Sam of his pain. Wasn't that the point of everything? In the end the decision was easier to make than he ever imagined. Dean knew that he was damned, knew that there was nothing that he could ever do to purify his tainted soul. In the end punishment would come. But in the meantime he could give Sam what he needed.

Dean lifted his head and met his brother's eyes. There was so much emotion written on Sam's face that Dean found himself once again lost in his brother's eyes. Dean now knew beyond a doubt that Sam had meant every word that he had said. All doubt that Sam may have been lying evaporated in heat of his gaze.

Dean straightened himself, still on his knees, he reached up and laid a hand gently on the back of Sam's head and pulled it down toward him. There was a moment of hesitation before their lips met as Sam silently asked him if he was sure this was what he wanted. Dean had never wanted anything more and he closed the distance between them.

At first the kiss was soft, both men reacquainting themselves with the touch and taste of the other, but as soon as Sam's tongue slipped between Dean's lips all pretenses were dropped. Dean's other hand reached up to join the first, both hands now tangled in a mop of silky hair as he pulled Sam impossibly closer. The kiss was sloppy and a little too hard and it was the best kiss that Dean could ever remember.

Sam put his hands on Dean's arms, caressing his way up until he grabbed his brother's wrists and lowered his arms. When they were low enough Sam retraced his path back up and over his shoulders removing the remains of Dean's tattered shirt. In one smooth motion, hands never leaving his brothers hot skin, he pushed the material off, wrapped his arms around the small of Deans back and pulled him up onto his lap.

Dean moaned shamelessly. He thought that he would never have this again, especially not after Sam found out the truth of who he really was. He had no idea why Sam had forgiven him, how he could even stand to be in the same room with him let alone like this but at the moment it didn't matter. All that mattered was he was right here right now. With Sam. Like this. Right or wrong this was how things were meant to be. It was who they were. It was them. Not just Sam or Dean but SamandDean. Not just two separate halves. Like this they were both whole.

"Sam...Sammy..." Dean uttered into his brother's lips as he worked franticly to remove Sam's shirt. He gave up on the buttons and ripped the shirt open and pushed it back over large strong shoulders, desperate for the feel of skin on skin. He pressed his chest to Sam's while devouring his mouth and felt...another shirt. Damnit! He had forgotten his brother's penchant for wearing so many layers. Easily rectified. Dean yanked carelessly at the bottom of Sam's t-shirt, pulling himself away from his brother's lips briefly to pull the shirt over his head. Hallelujah! Finally! Sam's...undershirt? Jesus Christ! The man was a walking furnace, how many fucking shirts did he have to wear! Dean pulled himself away from Sam's lips with feigned irritation. "If there is another shirt under this one I swear I am going to kill you."

Sam let out a small laugh and grabbed Dean by the hips flipping him over onto the bed. He then stood and removed the rest of his clothes as quickly as possible, almost falling over as he hastily removed his jeans.

Dean remained splayed out on the bed, watching hungrily as Sam disrobed in front of him. God he was beautiful! Dean thought that he had never seen anything as beautiful as Sam. Physically Sam was perfect, but Dean wouldn't have cared if he looked like Quasimodo. Sam was the only person in the world who he had ever let himself love entirely, the only one who he trusted implicitly, the only one who he could allow to see the real person that was hidden behind the mask that he wore for the rest of the world. And Sam still loved him. Dean knew that he was damaged goods, knew that the world could never accept the person that he truly was, but Sam did. Despite the demon blood that pulsed through his veins Dean thought that Sam was an angel. His angel. More capable of forgiveness and love than the stoic creatures who actually dwelled in heaven. Sam was his gift, his light and the only thing that had ever kept him from succumbing to the darker urges that always lay just below the surface. As Dean watched his brother stumble out of his jeans, silly grin on his face, he knew that he had made the right choice.

Once Sam had removed all his clothes he returned to his brother on the bed. Dean pushed himself up toward Sam, only to have a large hand on his chest stop his ascent. Sam slowly pushed Dean back down and covered his body with his own. Resting his weight on his elbows he cupped his brother's face in his hands and kissed Dean's forehead. "I forgive you Dean." Sam whispered as he moved down and laid a soft kiss on Dean's nose. "Forgive yourself." Dean tensed, but his brother knew him too well, before he could say anything Sam's lips were on his own.

The selfish part of Dean wished that his brother would just shut up. His words were painful to hear and not conducive to setting the mood for what was so obviously about to happen. But the rest of Dean was touched by the truth that was in his brother's voice, moved by the fact that he was loved so deeply that he could be forgiven for the unforgivable. The words were strangely more intimate than their current activities, they fell from Sam' mouth like a sacred vow whispered to heaven. Dean knew that the words were as painful for Sam to say as they were for him to hear. He also knew that Sam needed to say them as much as he needed to hear Dean say them. This was as much about healing Sam's pain as it was healing Dean's. Dean wished that he could echo Sam's words and ease his brother's pain. But he just couldn't. He would give his brother everything else, but he couldn't' give him that.

Sam pulled away from Dean's lips and placed a reverent kiss on each of his cheeks before moving down to lick and nibble at his neck. Dean closed his eyes and let himself get lost in the sensation of Sam's tongue and lips as he kissed and licked and sucked a path down his neck and chest until they came to rest on his left nipple and fuck! Dean had almost forgotten how amazing his brother could make him feel. How the hell had he ever denied himself this? Sam hadn't even touched his cock and already this was better than any random fuck he had ever had. Dean thought he would be able to come just from the feel of Sam's hot hungry mouth sucking and nibbling on his now perky nipples.

Dean moaned at the loss of sensation when Sam moved away from his nipple to continue his journey down. He had no control over the noises he was making, not that it would matter if he did. Sam loved to hear Dean moan and beg and he knew exactly what buttons to push to illicit that reaction from his normally closed off older brother. Dean had never made those noises with anyone else.

Sam stopped to pay special attention to Dean's belly button and another shameless groan filled the small room as he reached up and tangled his fingers through Sam's long shaggy hair. His cock was throbbing in his pants, it had been so long since it had received any attention either by his own hand or someone else's Dean was surprised he hadn't come already. Dean had never been so turned on in his life. His entire body tingled in anticipation and his breath was already becoming erratic and this was only the beginning. Jesus Christ did Sam know how to use his mouth!

Suddenly all sensation was gone and Dean opened his eyes and looked down at his brother and holy shit was that the hottest thing he had ever seen! Sam's mouth was just above the top button of his jeans and he was hunched over Dean's body like a wild cat about to pounce with the most devious and lust filled leer that Dean had ever seen. He was licking his bottom lip just waiting, waiting to have Dean's full attention and God Danm yes! He had it all right. Lilith could have been standing right next to the bed and Dean would never have noticed.

Sam chuckled knowingly and slowly, my god so slowly began to undo the buttons on Dean's jeans. His eyes stayed on Dean the whole time, slowly stroking over the hard bulge between each button. Dean tried desperately to get some friction, but every time he thrust his hips up Sam would remove his hand. Jesus Christ! How many fucking buttons are on a pair of jeans? Zippers. Yeah Dean was definitely gonna buy jeans with zippers from now on. Nowhere on his jeans was there a warning tag stating that button flies may cause you to come in your pants but that was exactly what he was going to do if Sam kept it up. Dean could tell by the look on his brother's face that he knew it too. Bastard.

Dean let out an involuntary squeak. A fucking squeak! He was never in a million years admitting that he had just made that sound but it probably saved him further embarrassment because Sam took pity on him and quickly yanked the last two buttons free. Dean felt Sam's large hands dip inside his jeans and he instantly raised his hips to help Sam get them down. Sam grinned and raised his eyebrows mocking surprise at the lack of underwear as he slowly lowered the jeans down his brother's legs. My god Sam had the patience of Gandhi! Dean wanted nothing more than to be free of his jeans and pull Sam down on top of himself and fuck like rabbits on Viagra. Dean now hated jeans; they were his new arch nemesis. Who knew that jeans were evil?

"Never knew you were the type to wear your boots to bed Dean. That's kinda kinky."

His boots! Fuuuuuuck! Mother fucker! Was it too much to ask for a break? Just one tiny little break? Here Dean was, in bed with the hottest specimen of the male species in all his naked glory and he had his fucking evil jeans stuck on his fucking boots! Throw me a frickin bone here! Dean's thoughts must have shown on his face because Sam burst out laughing and quickly removed his footwear along with his sadistic jeans.

"Better?" Sam asked through a huge grin. Dean nodded vigorously, not trusting his voice to not make another horrifically unmasculine squeaky sound. The smile on Sam's face faded and his look became serious as he once again lowered himself over his brothers midsection. "Let it go Dean." he said solemnly before he lowered his mouth onto Dean's hard weeping cock.

"Fuck Sammy!" Dean shouted as his hands instantly found a home in Sam's hair. Dean loved Sam's hair. He was always bugging him to get it cut but he thought that if actually he did he might cry. He loved the way it felt in his hands and how it tickled his chest and he loved to watch Sam absently brush it out of his eyes. Dean didn't have a hair fetish; he could care less about other people's hair, he just loved Sam's. There was probably some symbolism in there somewhere but it was difficult to think about with Sam's hot wet and amazingly talented tongue practicing advanced yoga moves on his dick. This was soooo not gonna last long.

Sam continued to pay homage to Dean's cock with rapture like enthusiasm. Dean was lost in the sensation of his brothers mouth as Sam sucked and licked and rolled his tongue right there! Oh yeah, just like that! God damn! "Oh God Sam... can't ...gonna..."

Dean could feel the tingling sensation racing down his spine and just when he thought he was going to lose it a large hand wrapped around the base of his Dick, effectively staving off his orgasm.

"Not yet"

Dean...made a noise, some kind of noise he couldn't quite describe but it definitely was not a squeak. Fuck it. It was a squeak God damnit! And he had every fucking right after being so suddenly denied. What the hell was Sam doing to him? Dean wondered. Then he felt Sam's finger tracing small circles around the sensitive skin in the middle of his ass. Suddenly Sam's mouth was on him again and he felt a spit soaked finger breach his entrance and Holy hell!

Sam worked Dean open while lavishing attention on his cock. First one finger, then two and finally three fingers swirled and scissored inside him while he pumped his brother's mouth. Dean was close, so close. Sam crooked his fingers and rubbed the tiny bundle of nerves and Dean lost it. He threw his head back making no attempt to muffle his groans of pleasure as he shot wave after wave of hot ropey come into Sam's mouth.

After Sam had milked out all of Dean's release he sat up and started to get off the bed. Dean tensed and grabbed Sam's arm, question obvious in his eyes.

"We need lube; I think I have some in my bag."

"No, just you."

"It might hurt."

"I don't care. Just you. I just want you."

Sam's face lit up in an incongruously shy smile as he nodded and proceeded to help Dean roll over and prop himself up on his knees. He positioned himself behind his brother. "Are you ready?"

"God yes"

Sam was right, it did hurt but at the same time it felt so good. This was them. A combination of pleasure and pain that was ingrained into every part of their lives. The burn began to fade as dean swallowed more of his brother's cock. Inch by inch the tingles of pleasure increased until he finally held all of him. Dean could hear Sam breathing loudly to try and stave off the urge to move and he took a deep breath and allowed himself a moment to adjust. "Move."

"Oh god Dean" Sam gasped as he slowly began to push in and out of Dean's incredibly hot ass. "Oh fuck yeah....God.....waited so long..."

Oh fuck yeah! Dean pushed back to meet his brothers thrusts. He could already feel himself growing hard again. He felt so full, so complete, his nerves tingled everywhere like a live wire and as he completely surrendered his body and soul. "Sam" Dean moaned. "...Sammy..."

"I'm here." Sam answered breathlessly as he reached down and pulled his brother up into a sitting position on his lap, holding him in place with a hand over his heart. "I'm not going anywhere."

Dean groaned and let his head fall back onto Sam's shoulder, completely trusting his brother to keep him from falling. "Fuck!" Dean screamed. The new position had angled him just right so that Sam hit that sweet spot with every thrust. Dean reached back with one arm grabbing a hand full of Sam's tussled and sweaty mop. "Fuck Sammy..." It came out low and gravelly in that tone that is only ever heard during amazing sex.

Sam lowered his lips to Dean's ear. "Forgive yourself Dean." He whispered. "Say it for me"

Dean's hand tightened in his brother's hair. "I.... I...I can't." Dean panted as he continued to pump himself up and down on his brother's swollen shaft.

"Then at least let me forgive you." Sam pleaded as he took Dean's aching cock in his huge hand. "Give it to me Dean." Sam panted "Let it go....Come for me."

Dean's heart ached for his brother and he couldn't deny him his pained request. Hearing the sincerity and love that filled his brother's voice drove Dean over the edge into a dark chasm of pleasure and emotion. "Sam!" Dean screamed as he filled his brother's hand with his release. Sam tensed behind him, pulling him closer in a tight grip, and Dean felt himself being filled.

Both men fell forward in an awkward tangle of sweat skin and come, Dean still held securely in his brothers arms. Dean knew that he could never forgive himself but he could accept Sam's forgiveness. He would follow Sam down the road to his salvation even though he knew that it was a dead end. After all, if it was possible for Dean to find salvation he knew that he would find it in his brother.


End file.
